


Surprisingly Pleasurable

by Sunja



Series: Benefits [1]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Meetings, M/M, Rare Pairings, fighting to talking to fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 08:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20690732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunja/pseuds/Sunja
Summary: Hal has literally just set back foot on earth when he hears gunshots. Naturally he goes to check it out and finds Deathstroke. Things progress from there as Hal's ring has almost no power left and Slade only kills heroes if he gets paid for it.





	Surprisingly Pleasurable

**Author's Note:**

> I never knew I needed this pairing, until it suddenly popped into my head. And instead of searching for a rare pair that probably has next to no content, I decided to write some myself. Hope it doesn't feel to out of character.

Hal is practically sleeping by the time he re-enters Earth’s atmosphere around midnight. He’s been off world for the Corps for two and a half weeks. There have been battles with the Sinestro Corps, a natural disaster he’s had to help clean up and some peace negotiations between planets that almost ended in open conflict. Hal has been up for more than twenty four hours and all he wants is his bed. 

His mind is on autopilot as he navigates to Coast City. He yawns as he lands on top of his building. His ring is almost out of power. He should go and charge it, then get himself something to eat, take a shower and then sleep for a day. 

He’s about to do just that, when he hears a gunshot. Then another. 

“Shit.”, he mutters. For a moment he thinks about just letting the police handle it and get himself some rest. But he knows he wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that he might have been able to do something. 

So he takes off again, rubbing his eyes through his mask and shaking the tiredness out his limbs. 

_Power at 3 %. _His ring helpfully informs him. Well. Two gun shots are probably just a mugging. Nothing he can’t handle with minimal power. Usually it’s enough to fly in and intimidate a little while he waits for the police to show up. 

He hovers above a dark alley. There are two men down there, one of them is holding a gun - the shooter. But he isn’t pointing it at the other man and there are no bodies lying around. Instead, he is holding it up and scouring the rooftops. The guy is scared. Hal looks around as well. He doesn’t see anything, but he obviously hasn’t looked hard enough, as a second later there is the whistle of a silencer and the man with the gun drops to the floor. Even from his place above the alley can Hal see the blood leaking from a gunshot wound in the middle of the guy’s forehead. 

“Fuck.”, he mutters. 

_Power at 2%. _Shit. Already? The last percents always go faster than you think. Hal flies over to where he things the shot came from and drops to the roof. No way is he risking flying if his power is about to go out. He should really leave. Worst case scenario there is a professional killer on this roof and he’s about to be out of protection and in his civilian identity. But what’s he supposed to do? Now he’s already on the roof-top. It’s sorta too late to back out now. 

He steps to the edge of the roof and looks down at the adjacent roof that’s just a few meters lower. And there he sees fucking Deathstroke calmly disassembling a sniper rifle. 

Hal is so fucked. 

“Since when do you do business in this city?”, he asks, announcing his presence. 

Deathstroke looks up. He is wearing his mask. The one eye fixes on Hal standing at the edge of the roof as he rises from his crouch. “Since people pay me to do it.”  
Hal floats down to Deathstroke’s level and notices that the mercenary is even more built than he looks in his League file. “Well, you’re not gonna get away with it.” He raises his ring hand with more confidence than he feels. “I suggest you come quietly.”

Wilson chuckles. “You’re looking a bit banged up, Lantern. Are you sure you want to do this? My business here is done, I was leaving anyway.”

Hal sneeres. “You’re still a criminal.”

He forms a construct, a big hand that shoots forward to wrap around the mercenary. Except when his hand reaches, Wilson isn’t there anymore. He has rolled to the side in a very fast roll and drawn one of his swords and a gun. 

Hal almost isn’t fast enough in pulling up a shield. The bullets ricochet harmlessly off the shield, but then Wilson is on him. Hal dodges the first swing of the sword and flies up and back a little while covering Deathstroke in a hail of fast baseballs. He doesn’t expect them to do much damage, they’re simply a distraction while he focuses on conjuring chains to wrap around his opponent. He manages it and is surprised. 

“Gotcha.”, he says with a smirk. 

“You think?”, Wilson shoots back. 

Hal has to focus hard as the mercenary strains against the chains. He knew Deathstroke was enhanced, but he had never imagined this level of strength. But then again, he had also sort of just thought that Deathstroke was Batman’s problem and that he wouldn’t have to deal with him personally and one on one. And he was also really tired. 

_Power at 1%. _

He needs to end this now. Hal lands back on the roof and conjures a fist as well. A big one. He tries to hit Wilson over the head with it, but his ring doesn’t have the power to hold two solid constructs anymore. So the chains break and Deathstroke dodges his fist, raising his gun again. 

Hal manages to get his shield up again, but it cracks almost instantly. It holds for three bullets and then shatters, but Deathstroke doesn’t shoot anymore, instead he advances with his sword. 

As a last ditch effort, Hal makes himself a bow and arrow. He’s been training with Ollie now and then and at this little distance, even he can hit a target, especially when he’s as broad as Wilson. He shoots his shot, Deathstroke dodges, but it’s unnecessary. About a foot before the arrow would have reached him, it evaporates, together with Hal’s bow and his suit. And his mask. 

“Fuck.”, he gets out, before Wilson raises his blade to his throat. Hal instinctively takes a step back. Wilson follows. Two more steps and his back hits a wall. The tip of the sword draws up and Hal raises his chin and bares his throat so he won’t get cut. 

“If you’re going to kill me, you might as well get on with it.”, he pushes out, sort of flatly. 

Deathstroke raises one hand and pulls off his helmet. The point of the sword doesn’t waver in the slightest. Hal can see him smirk. 

“I’m not going to kill you.”, Wilson says. “Killing a member of the Justice League is way to much hassle I don’t have time to deal with.”

Hal can’t hold back the sigh of relief. “So what now?”, he doesn’t dare move, courtesy of the sword at his throat. 

“Now I leave and you can get some rest, Jordan.”

Hal freezes. He had hoped that maybe he could get out of this with his identity intact. Slade Wilson isn’t really somebody he trusts with his identity. “How do you know my name?”, he asks. 

Wilson laughs, he seems honestly amused. “It’s on your jacket. Along with Ferris Aircrafts. I guess that’s your day job. You really must be tired.”

He pulls away his sword and sheathes it in one smooth move. He moves as gracefully and precisely as Batman does. 

Hal eases a little and leans back against the wall. “Yeah, well. It’s been an exhausting few weeks. Interplanetary peace talks, Sinestro Corps, natural disasters, intergalactic crime…”

Hal walks over to the side of the building and looks down in the alley. The dead guy is still laying there and the police hasn’t shown up yet. 

“So who’s the guy?”, he asks over his shoulder. 

“A Gangster. Pissed off the wrong rich guy.”, Wilson replies with a shrug. 

Hal hummed an acknowledgement. Then he notices that he doesn’t exactly know where he is. He’s flown here by sound and he’s definitely one or two neighborhoods away from his apartment. 

“Hey, were exactly are we?”, he asks Wilson. “I would have flown back home, but it seems I’m out of juice.”

The mercenary studies him for a while. “I could give you a lift.”

Hal doesn’t know how to feel about that. “Uhm… not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but I don’t really think that’s a good idea, considering your and my profession. And I don’t really think I want you to know where I live, no offense.”

Wilson chuckles. “I know your name and your place of work. I could find out your address in less time it would take to drive there.”

“That’s not very comforting.” Hal is sort of realizing exactly how much power Wilson currently holds over him. Hell, he could just drag him to the car and Hal wouldn’t be able to stop him. He’s trained hand to hand combat before, but it’s not exactly his strong suit. And this is fucking Deathstroke across from him. Probably the deadliest man alive. 

He sighs. He’s too fucking tired for all off this. “Fine. A ride home would be nice. Would you mind calling the cops for the dead guy, though?”

Wilson smirks. “Sure.” He picks up the case with the disassembled rifle and walks ahead to the fire escape at the other side of the building. Hal just follows. 

When they get to the car - a slick black sports car, of course - Slade puts the rifle in the trunk and when he turns around, he throws something at Hal. Hal catches it just in time. It’s a burner phone. 

“I suppose you know the number?”, Wilson says with a smirk. 

Hal huffs, but feels the corners of his mouth rise as well. He types in 911 and when the operator picks up, he just says the address Wilson gave him and that there has been a murder. Then he hangs up and tosses the phone back at Wilson who catches it effortlessly. “Get in, Jordan.”

Wilson gets into the driver’s seat and so Hal gets in on the other side. 

“It’s Hal, by the way.”, he says. It’s not like Wilson wouldn’t find out the rest of his name. “Hal Jordan.”

“My pleasure. I’m Slade.” Wilson puts the car into gear. 

“I know.”, Hal replies drily. “You come up in briefings from time to time. Usually with a warning and your rank among the top five of the League’s most wanted list.”  
Wilson - Slade - laughs. 

“I’m gonna need an address.”, he then says as he pulls out on the street. The amusement is still swinging in his voice. 

Hal rattles off the address of his apartment complex. Then his stomach rumbles. Hal remembers that he still needs to eat. 

“Let’s get some food on the way.”, Slade suggests. Hal sighs. “I don’t have any money on me. I’m gonna go get some food after I’ve been home.”

“My treat then.” Slade shoots him a look from the corner of his eye. Hal is just confused. The whole situation is beyond weird. Here he is, talking calmly, basically friendly, with a supervillain, or at least a high profile assassin, who has now basically invited him to dinner. The world really is a strange place. 

“Why?”, he asks eventually. “Why would you buy me food? Why are you even taking me home? Why didn’t you just knock me out on the rooftop and leave it at that?”  
The questions needed to be asked. 

Slade shrugs. “Why not? My job is done and you’re nice and attractive enough to make for pleasant company.” He looks over at Hal again, gives him a good and pointed once over before making eye contact for a moment. 

Hal feels his face heat up as Slade looks back to the road. What on Earth is happening? Did Slade fucking Wilson just call him hot? Hal looks over at the deadly assassin next to him. Slade’s not so bad himself. The few times Hal has been with men, he has discovered that he has a thing for strong men. Slade is definitely his type: tough, really strong and bossy. His piercing stare and strong jawline also help. 

Slade looks over and smirks and Hal notices he’s been staring. He looks away. The silence fills the car for a few minutes as they drive toward Hal’s apartment. Hal comes to a decision. 

“So this is for obvious reasons a terrible idea”, he begins. “But why don’t I jump out and get some food and then we eat at my place? I don’t think you want to walk into a diner in that.” He nods at the black and orange armor Slade is wearing. 

Slade’s smirk is intense and there is heat in his eye. “I’d like that.”

They stop at a chinese take out and Hal goes in with a wad of Slade’s cash. He buys four meals, figuring that he is starving and Slade probably also eats a lot. He gets back into Slades car and hands him the change. It’s such a normal thing that it still completely freaks him out. Here they are, essentially mortal enemies. So why does this feel perfectly comfortable and normal? Hal is too tired to worry. 

A few minutes later they arrive at the slightly rundown apartment building that Hal lives in. Slade’s nice car is weirdly out of place. Slade pulls a hoodie over his armor and somehow that is good enough as a disguise that nobody looks at them funny as they walk in and take the elevator to the top floor. Hal lives that far up on purpose. Better roof access. 

He fumbles with his keys a little, but he gets the door open eventually. He kicks off his shoes and walks further in, putting the take out down at the coffee table. He’s suddenly very aware that his apartment is neither tidy nor modern or well arranged. Between the Watchtower and his times off-world, he doesn’t spend much time here anymore, but he’s now acutely aware how it might seem to a visitor. Especially a wealthy visitor like Slade Wilson. 

But Slade says nothing, just shrugs out of the hoodie and his boots. He also hangs up his weapons by the door and sheds the outer layer of his armor.  
Hal drops of his ring at his lantern to charge, then gets some plates and they sit down and eat. The take out is good, that chinese place is one of Hal’s favorites. At some point during the meal, a foot touches Hal’s shin. He looks up at Slade who just smirks and trails the foot up his leg until he can rest it on one of Hal’s thighs.  
Hal’s eyes narrow and he slowly starts smirking too as he’s trying to come up with a plan for retaliation. He finally settles on poking at the underside of Slade’s foot. Yeah, it’s childish, but there is a table between them, so there isn’t much else of Slade’s he can get his hands on. 

Slade easily holds his stare. Hal feels heated and his tiredness is dissipating a little. He quickly finishes off his plate of food while holding Slade’s gaze as best he can. Then he pushes Slade’s foot off and gets up. He walks around the table. Slade gets up as well. Hal steps close, close enough that he has to look up a little. 

“Well, Hal Jordan, you have any other bad ideas?” Slade’s eye is boring into him. Hal can tell that Slade definitely has some ideas. Luckily, Hal has some too. 

“A few.”, he responds. Then he grabs a handful of Slade’s hair and smashes their lips together in an aggressive kiss. He doesn’t really understand how they progressed from fighting on a rooftop to this, but right now what he wants is Slade fucking Wilson fucking him good and then he wants to sleep for a day. 

Slade doesn’t wait for an invitation, he responds hungrily, one hand wrapping loosely around Hal’s throat. Hal moans. Right in the kinks. He doesn’t particularly like being choked, but just the feeling of a hand on his neck is really hot. He grinds their hips together and damn that feels good. He’s already well on the way to hardness. 

Slade lets go of his neck, grabs his ass with both hands and lifts. Ha yelps in surprise, it’s been a while since somebody has been able to lift him that easily. But he quickly recovers, wraps his hips around Slades waist and his arms around his shoulders and bites at Slade’s neck while he’s being carried over to his bedroom.  
Slade tosses him onto the mattress. Hal rolls once and comes up to his knees. This is fun. He pulls his shirt over his head, winces a little as he moves some sore muscles, but he manages. Slade whistles appreciatively. “Those are some impressive bruises.”

Hal looks down. Slade is right, he is pretty banged up. But he doesn’t care. Hal shrugs. “A building fell on me. But nothing is broken.”

Slade huffs, amused. He climbs on the bed as well. Hal pulls Slade’s under armor shirt out the hem of his pants. “Off.”, he orders. Slade chuckles, but obliges. He tosses the shirt off the bed and on the floor. Slade’s chest is unmarked, no bruises, muscled as hell. Hal runs his hands over Slade’s abs. Damn. 

Slade lets him for a moment, then he pulls Hal’s chin up and claims him in another dominating kiss. Hal lets himself be pushed backwards until his back hits the bed. Slade is still kissing him and when he eventually pulls back Hal is breathless. Hal reaches up to pull Slade back down, but Slade catches his wrists and pins them to the mattress. Hal pushes against the hold as a test, but Slade doesn’t budge. Hal is suddenly very aware that he is pinned down by a dangerous mercenary without his ring, his one weapon. Right now, he’s just a guy and Slade is not only enhanced, but also way better trained. A shudder runs down his spine as he becomes aware exactly how outmatched he currently is. But he wouldn’t be Hal Jordan if he couldn’t laugh in the face of death and cheat it with pure bravado. He enjoys danger. It’s a bit worrying, really. 

“You gonna come down here or what?”, he asks Slade with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Teasing. 

Slade hums and does, but not for a kiss. He latches onto Hal’s neck, kisses, sucks and bites his way down over Hal’s chest. Hal is sure he’s going to have a few more bruises tomorrow, but he really doesn’t care. He moans whenever Slade’s attention is one one of the especially sensitive skin over his bruises or on his nipples. 

By the time Slade reaches his waistband, Hal is very hard and nearing the end of his patience. “Slade.”, he moans. 

Slade looks up at him, teeth closing over the skin on his hip bone. Hal whines, but pulls himself together enough to push out. “You need to fuck me right now.”

Slade chuckles. “Patience.”

Hal glares. “Patience isn’t exactly my strong suit, as literally anybody in the League will be happy to tell you.”

Slade just smirks and hooks one finger under the hem of his pants. Hal thinks - hopes - he’s going to pull them down, but Slade just teases as he moves back up.  
Hal glares. “Jerk.”

Then he pushes himself up and attacks Slade’s lips with his. Slade is nice enough to at least grind down. They both groan in pleasure and Hal can feel that Slade is just as hard as he is and from what he can feel through two pairs of pants he’s big. 

Hal grabs Slade’s butt and grinds up, humming in pleasure. Slade grabs his hair and pulls his head back. Now it’s Hal’s turn to smirk. “You sure you don’t want to get going? I might not be patient, but I’m very good at riling people up until they move things along.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Slade looks around. “You got lube?”

“Bedside table.”

Slade leans over to get the lube. Hal watches him, the movement of his muscles under his skin. It’s entrancing. Slade puts the lube down next to them on the bed and finally reaches for Hal’s pants. Hal helpfully raises his hips so Slade can pull down his jeans and underwear in one go. Hal reaches for Slade’s zipper and undoes his pants, but then Slade wraps a big, strong hand around Hal’s cock and he gets distracted by the sudden pleasure shooting through him. He moans as Slade strokes him a few times, but he manages to shove Slade’s pants down. 

Slade gets up to his knees for a moment to shrug off his pants. When he leans back down and they grind back together, the friction is so much better without the two layers of clothes between them. They kiss again and Hal feels like he’s being devoured. It’s amazing. 

They separate and one of Slade’s hands captures one of his arms and suddenly he’s on his stomach and Slade is mouthing at the junction of his shoulder and neck, pressing Hal down with his body. Hal feels trapped in the best way. He wiggles a little and can feel Slade’s cock against his ass. It’s hard and big and Hal wants it inside him. 

Slade takes a few moments to suck a bruise onto Hal’s shoulder, but then he lets Hal get up on his knees and elbows while he slicks up his fingers. The first one goes easily and Hal hums with pleasure, making sure to relax. Slade doesn’t wait long until he ads a second and Hal is fine with that. The stretch is good and the power behind Slade’s fingers when they curl or scissor feels amazing. Hal just clenches up a few times just so he can really feel it. 

Slade works efficiently and it doesn’t take too long until he pulls out his fingers and only a moment later Hal feels his slicked cock between his cheeks. He pushes his ass back and it’s all the invitation Slade needs. He lines up and pushes in in one steady push. Hal is stretched open around him and the gives a groan at the blissful feeling of being filled up. It hurts a little, but Hal doesn’t mind. If he had wanted careful, sweet love making, he wouldn’t have gone to bed with fucking Deathstroke the Terminator. 

Slade doesn’t wait for him to adjust, just pulls out again and slams back in, effectively driving all the air from Hal’s lungs in a breathless yell. He thinks he hears Slade chuckle, but isn’t sure. He isn’t exactly focused as Slade sets up a rhythm of strong, powerful thrusts. He changes the angle a bit and suddenly Hal is seeing stars. It takes him a moment to realize he yelled out in pleasure, but Slade has definitely noticed he has hit Jackpot, as he keeps slamming Hal’s prostate with every thrust.  
It feels so good and Hal can feel his orgasm building. He gets close, but just before he thinks he’s going to blow, Slade suddenly slows down and moves so he isn’t hitting his prostate anymore. Hal fucking whimpers. “Asshole.”, he pushes out trying to catch his breath. 

Slade just keeps moving, slowly, but eventually he picks up his tempo again and Hal can feel the pleasure building again. This time, when he is about to come, Slade wraps one arm around his waist and pulls him up and against him, Hal’s back to Slade’s chest. Slades other hand loosely holds Hal’s throat again. Hal lets his head fall back against Slade’s shoulder and after a few more moments he comes hard. Slade keeps fucking him through it. After Hal just sort of turns into jello in Slade’s arms. Slade shoves him back down on the bed and after a few more moments of hard thrusts he grunts and comes as well, biting down at Hal’s neck. 

Hal just lays there and hums in post orgasmic bliss, even though he is sticky. Slade pulls out and rolls off him. Hal blinks over at him. “You know, usually I’d be up for another round later, because that was some pretty great sex, but I’m afraid I’d just fall asleep on you.” He’s already sort of slurring his word, that’s how tired he is. Getting aroused drove back the need to sleep, but now it’s back with a vengeance. 

Slade can obviously tell. He ruffles Hal’s hair. “Get some rest then. There will be other times.”

Hal raises an eyebrow. “There will be?”

Slade shrugs. “If you want to.”

Hal is silent for a moment. But then again… “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

He waits for a response, but Slade is silent. The pillow beneath Hal’s head is really comfortable and he closes his eyes and gives in. It doesn’t even take a minute until he’s fast asleep. 

When Hal wakes again, the sun is just setting over the horizon. The alarm clock on his bedside table says it’s seven p.m. He slept for over twelve hours. Probably long overdue. 

The next thing Hal notices is the annoying sticky feeling all over him and the bottle of lube next to the alarm clock. 

Right. 

That happened.

He slept with Slade Wilson in his own bed. 

If Bruce ever finds out, he’ll rip him a new one. Yeah, Hal is screwed. Because here he is hoping Batman won't find out. What a pointless wish. Batman always finds out eventually. 

Well. No point worrying now, he’s already done it. 

Sighing, Hal rolls out the bed. He isn't surprised that Slade isn't there. He would have been a lot more surprised if the mercenary had decided to stay. Hal takes a shower and scrubbs himself clean. He feels a bit sore and loves it. When he looks in the mirror he can also very clearly see some vivid bruising. Some from his Lantern duties, but others obviously left by Slade. But they will all be well hidden by his suit, even the ones on his neck. Small mercies. 

Hal gets dressed, changes the bedsheets and goes into the kitchen. The takeout that had been left there is gone. Hal looks into the fridge and there he finds the leftovers, neatly packaged in the containers they came in. He also finds his phone plugged in to charge. He definitely hasn’t done that. He unlocks the phone. He shoots a quick text to the contact simply saved as ‘B’ saying that he was back on earth. Under the recent chats there is a new one. The contact name reads “SW” and the only text in the chat says “I’ll let you know if I’m in town.”

Hal huffs. He wonders briefly how Slade had managed to unlock his phone and save himself in his contacts, but then he remembers that it's Slade. 

“Appreciate that. I’m back among the living.”, he texts back. Then he goes to make himself some breakfast.


End file.
